


Light of the Moon

by russiansimp



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Allium Allergies, Animal jokes, Argenteus Urticaria, Blasphemy, Blood Loss, But also, CW: vomit, Can you tell the author grew up in a strictly Christian household, College AU, Emesis, Hemorrhage, Heresy, Holy Water, Ill tag more as i go, Lots of Mythology, M/M, Mayhaps, Modern AU, Nausea, PETA - Freeform, Polymorphic light eruption, Religious Fanatics, Sacrelige, Self Sacrifice, Shock, Solar Urticaria, Starvation, Vampire AU, Vampirism, Werewolf AU, Xeroderma Pigmentosum, Zoology, as in making fun of PETA, but more Catholics probably, cults?, feeding frenzies, herpetology, hypervolemic shock, i blame all the vampire Zuko fics that existed prior to this one, idk Catholics are more historically accurate but I know more about mormons, is it self discipline or self harm lol, lol kinda, lycanthropy, medically accurate hemorrhage care, nondescript Christians ok, photosensitivity, religiously accurate vampires, scientifically accurate vampires???, there may be mormons, these two are bona fide carnivores, trying to make religiously accurate things medically accurate, tw for anorexia in the first chapters, vampire x werewolf, wow this is just not canon at all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25601425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russiansimp/pseuds/russiansimp
Summary: Curses always seem to come by the light of the moon.I've seen so many Vampire!Zuko fics and I am really living for them and with Sokka's whole connections to wolves and the moon? This shit practically writes itself, y'all.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 80
Kudos: 256





	1. The Color Magenta

**Author's Note:**

> Hey kids I've seen so many Vampire!Zuko fics and I am really living for them and with Sokka's whole connections to wolves and the moon? This shit practically writes itself, y'all. However, I don't fuck with twilight vampires, or Dracula vampires, tbh. Bear with me being vaguely religious for a paragraph or so while I explain this. You can skip this note if you want, however you may be confused.
> 
> So, there are two historical origins for vampires that I know of. The Non-Slavic European variation came about as an explanation for Tuberculosis. With a rudimentary understanding of medicine, they assumed the illness was something supernatural, akin to how Salem thought of any affliction as witchcraft. They looked at historical vampires, which they saw as nothing but blood drinking corpses, and theorized that people were rising from the grave to feed on the living, causing the symptoms like pallid skin, sunken flesh, and anemia.
> 
> Vampires were actually called a few things in Slavic countries. “Vampir” (Hungarian, Serbian, etc) was combined with “Uber”, the Turkish word for witch, creating the word _vampyre _in French. Anyways, so, Slavic vampires. They were quite different than how we think of them today. They were half-demons, children of incubi and humans (in some lores, others claim they are brothers of the incubi/succubi). Incubi were children of Lilith, The Divine Queen of Shadows, aka Adam’s first wife that was cast out from the garden of Eden because she didn't want to bottom. I actually worship Lilith in real life, hence why I focus on this lore of vampirism. So, they were either direct children or grandchildren of the Queen of Shadows, then propagated together to create a hereditary ‘curse’.__
> 
> So, some things that modern day stories do to vampires aren't true. Obv. So let's look at facts: the sun was considered holy. So they were harmed by the sun. Silver is a holy metal, so they couldn't see themselves in silver mirrors. The reason they drink blood is because they essentially function as blood sacrifice vessels for Lilith. To promote that, they were cursed with the insatiable hunger we’re all pretty familiar with, and their body rejected normal food. Honestly, Tokyo Ghoul had it right.
> 
> Because of how old and how many times translated Sumerian tales of her were, this is only one version you see of Lilith and her children, but I have found she seems to respond to it as accurate in my own practices.
> 
> So. With all that exposition out of the way… I don't know a ton about werewolves, but I know about the moon, and lycanthropy and vampirism are both demonic curses, so tbh I think they would have similar weaknesses, like the whole silver thing. I also know that they're attributed to Fenrir. And like vampirism, lycanthropy is hereditary, but can be transferred through blood, like any bloodborne disease we see today. OK I'M SORRY FOR CHEWING YOUR EARS OUT! That is all.

Sokka hated that they were forced to move. It was going to be the literal death of him, and he would forever rue the day that the South Pole was colonized and the natives were forced to leave. It turned his whole life upside down. There was the general stress of moving—he lost all of his friends, had to learn new customs, adjust to weather, deal with homesickness. He hated it, and that was just the human aspect of it. There was no accounting for _what he was _.__

Katara was adjusting a lot better to the change. She knew how to control herself, knew how to keep it hidden without driving herself crazy. And his dad was hardened with age. Sokka had neither of those things.

See, in the South Pole, their lycanthropy was considered a blessing from the moon herself. It was why their family had held chiefhood. Everyone in the tribe knew about it, and they respected it. They were accommodated. It was normal.

Hakoda made it clear that out here, it was not normal.

The affliction had been made into fiction, really. A trope in movies and literature handled in an offensive and idiotic manner. They tried to avoid it, and just attempted to live their life.

That life included school. Because in this world, there was no work of trade, there was no “take care of your neighbor” mentality. It was a, pardon the pun, dog-eat-dog world. So, Sokka tortured himself with a shit ton of online classes to get his minimum credits, enrolled in a community college, and moved in with his family in a small apartment close to campus. He and katara were on the same level for generals, and shared a few of them, so often grabbed lunch at the campus’s cafeteria after their 10:00 history class. 

“You think classroom smells are overwhelming?” Sokka scoffed, moving around his food as the two ate. “The court is terrible. It’s like, sixteen different colognes, and then all the nasty smells that come from a bunch of sweaty dudes in a humid environment… I've puked so many times in that room, man.”

Katara’s face twisted up in disgust as she shook her head. “I imagine. That sounds horrible. I still stand by it though, there are too many scents in classrooms. Ink and paper and markers and…” she shook her head, scrunching her nose up. She poked a piece of meat on her plastic fork, tucking it into her cheek before groaning. “There is no way this is real meat.”

“Tell me about it,” Sokka scoffed. “If dad doesn't let me go hunting this cycle, I'll resign to starve myself over eating this stuff.”

“You know why, he doesn't let you out, Sokka.”

“I know, I know, animal control, or whatever. I just really want some good meat, can you blame me?”

“We both do. But we’ve got to get used to it, and there’s no changing that.”

“Jeez, stop sounding so… mature,” Sokka huffed. “I'm the older brother, here.”

“Then act like one,” she retorted, watching as Sokka pushed himself to stand.

“Oh, whatever. I’m going to bed before that fucking bell rings. I'll see you after,” he hummed, picking up his tray.

“See you,” she nodded, watching him toss it in the trash before grabbing his bag and disappearing into a brick hall.

Sokka wasn't the kind of person that wanted to be early for anything, honestly, but the bell signaling noon classes was quieter from here, and the thing gave him a migraine. The teacher didn't care, so it just became a thing for him to spend the last five minutes of break in her room. And it was one room full of tolerable smells, to him, at least. Sure, most people hated the way the Animal Science room smelled, but it was better than the overwhelming chemicals of _literally any other classroom._

The room was set up in a bunch of long desks that were set up to create sets of two students, a projector, a few plants, and a small coop of newly hatched chickens that were born after their unit on the reproductive system (which was, by the way, way more than Sokka ever wanted to know about how childbirth works).

He dropped his bag by his assigned seat, sitting down in ‘the worst way ever’, according to Katara. He propped one knee up on the edge of the chair, so he could rest his wrist there as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone. And for a time, he was the only one in there, until other kids began filing in. Namely, the kid who sat just beside him.

Honestly, he kinda scared Sokka. He seemed like he brooded as an Olympic sport, wore mostly black (maybe red on a good day, gold if he was feeling awesome), never spoke, and always smelled like… something that reminded Sokka of a hunt. Like the smell that hit his nostrils right after he killed his prey. But fainter, masked by some sweet flowery scent.

He wordlessly took his seat by Sokka, as per usual. He didn't think they had ever exchanged more than one word at a time. And neither of them spoke, not until well into class, when they were forced to.

“Basically,” the teacher explained, “You're going to look at one livestock animal, and put together a presentation on their care, diets, diseases, stuff like that,” she smiled as the class groaned. “And you’ll work with your table partner on this. It’s a little too much for one person to do alone. It’s due next Friday. The rubric is on my website, so… go wild.”

The classroom’s volume soon raised to an uncomfortable level. He turned to his partner, offering an awkward smile. “So, uh, I’m Sokka,” he introduced.

“I know,” he responded. Damn, even his voice fit with his whole lonely goth kid vibe. Low and strained.

“Oh, uh, cool. Um… you gonna tell me your name?”

“Zuko,” he answered simply.

“Zuko,” Sokka repeated, rather enjoying the feel of the name on his lips. It was a nice name. Zuko finally turned to face him, and for the first time, Sokka got a good look at him.

His hair hung over his eyes, which were an unnaturally light brown. Almost a honey color, he thought. It was a pretty color, he had to admit. He noticed the most glaring feature first: a large burn covering the entirety of his left eye, and back behind his hair. It pulled his eye up, placing it in what Sokka thought looked like a permanent glare.

Then, there was the rest of his face. Everyone in Sokka's tribe had relatively deep skin, and he knew pale people were more common up here, but _holy shit _, was this kid pale. Like, barely darker than printer paper, pale. The only color that showed was faint red areas where the blood was closer to the skin— his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his chin. And his dark circles. No wonder he always wore a hoodie, there was no way that he wouldn't burn as soon as he stepped outside. By all accounts, he looked… bizarre.__

Bizarre, and pretty. Something otherworldly, like the color magenta, he thought. Things like that always intrigued him, things that just weren't natural.

“We’re not going to finish this by the end of the class,” Zuko sighed, opening his laptop. “I work tonight, so unless you’re a night owl, we have to wait until next class to get it done.”

“How late are we talking?” Sokka asked, opening his notebook and scribbling the date and topic on the top of a fresh page.

“Ten,” Zuko sighed. “So, I'd be up to work on this late, but…”

“Yeah, sure. I want to get this over with so I can work on an engineering project.”

“You know where The Jasmine Dragon is?” He asked.

“Uh… can't say I do. Is that a restaurant?”

“Kinda. Google it, meet there at like… ten-thirty?”

“Will it be open?”

“Would I be suggesting it if it wouldn't?”

“Touché,” Sokka whistled. “So, uh… we could at least get a basic outline of topics and… what animal we’re doing, I guess. Got any preferences?”

Zuko sighed, tilting his head. He tapped his pencil to his lips, shrugging. “I mean, sheep are cool. They probably have some weird care with the wool and stuff,” he suggested.

“Good enough a reason as any,” Sokka pondered, scribbling _SHEEP _in messy print in his notebook. “They also get sheared, that's an easy topic for grooming.”__

“Yeah. Uh, sicknesses…” he opened up his browser, typing a quick _sheep common illnesses _into the search bar. “Uh, scabby mouth, toxic… toxoplasmosis?”__

“Oh, that disease that makes you wanna kiss cats.”

“Wait, what?” Zuko raised a brow (though, he only had one brow in the first place).

“I’ll show you an article,” Sokka grinned. “They think it’s the cat disease that comes from cat poop. And they think that, when humans get it, you get one of two things, it makes you wanna kiss cats, and it makes you prone to danger. So you, like, walk towards traffic.”

“Uh… right. Oh, here, _blackleg _, that sounds cool.”__

“Dang. You're not a cat person?”

“No. I have a cat,” Zuko shrugged. “I just don't… think that's an appropriate topic for sheep.”

That went on for a while. Sokka made jokes, Zuko didn't laugh. They got an outline. Then, class was over.

“Here,” Zuko scribbled down his number, along with his name, handing it to Sokka. Was that cursive? Jesus.

“Gashadokuro, huh? Quite the last name you've got there,” Sokka remarked. “Is that… Japanese?”

If he looked closely, he could actually see Zuko’s expression change. “Uh, yeah. Actually. you into anime, or something?” He asked.

“Uh, no. I'm from a place with only as much literature as outsiders gave us, and we have a lot of old Japanese legends from a big boat of soldiers landing a super long time ago. At least, that's what we think happened.” He shrugged. “I've got a weird last name too, don't worry about it.”

“Which would be?” Zuko asked, tilting his head.

“Amarok,” Sokka chuckled. He watched Zuko silently try to wrap his head around those syllables. “Yeah. You don't have to use it, it’s weird to English speakers."

“I'll try,” Zuko shrugged, standing up. “It isn't any more complicated than mine, I guess. I'll, uh, see you tonight?”

“That you will,” Sokka nodded, offering a grin that was just a touch too sharp.


	2. PETA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who follow my other Zukka fics, lost to the flames will be updated soon, swear on my life. It’s just an intense chapter lol. As for the other two... worldbuilding is hard

Sokka should have known better than to trust Zuko’s word. Honestly, if he looked back on the entire encounter, it was shady from the start. Meet a complete stranger, late at night, at some cafe(?) he’s never been to. It was less that he felt like he was in danger, but more that he was just played like a fucking gameboy. The Jasmine Dragon had a sign that said, loud and clear, **CLOSED.** He scoffed some, kicking the nonexistent dirt of the sidewalk, illuminated only by the yellow overhead lamps and the faint neon green of the sign.

He looked around, frowning. He didn’t want to seem like he was actually looking for anything, but he also didn’t want to just up and leave. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his varsity jacket, blowing a raspberry. Fuck.

He turned on his heel, ready to make his way back to his car. It was only after he took a few steps out, that he heard the sound of the door opening, and the signal of jingling bells. “Hey,” Zuko’s voice called, rasped and tired. “You gonna come in, or stand there like a dumbass?”

“Zuko!” he sighed, a little too relieved, his voice a little too happy. He was getting uncomfortable, being out in the moonlight making him antsy. “Oh, man. I thought you stood me up, or something.”

“Why would I do that?” he asked, opening the door fully for Sokka to come in. The shop was definitely closed, the chairs set up off of the ground, presumably so they were able to sweep and mop the floor without any issue.

“I don’t know,” Sokka shrugged, folding his arms. “Place says closed, I assumed…” she shook his head. “So, we’re gonna just… hang out in a closed cafe?”

“No,” Zuko sighed, locking the door behind them. “Follow me,” he instructed, turning to walk towards the back. Sokka looked around with furrowed brows, observing the several jars of dry leaves in flowers, that he could only assume were tea. There were dishes set to dry, the pastry cabinet was closed, and the whole place was spotless.

Behind the kitchen, there was a steep, narrow staircase. It led up to a door, and a coat rack with a few jackets, hoods, and umbrellas. Zuko pushed the door open, revealing a quaint little apartment. “Oh,” Sokka remarked.”

“Come in,” Zuko invited, “Take your shoes off.”

“Will do,” Sokka nodded. He knelt down to untie his combat boots and toe them off, leaving them neatly by the mat. He noticed here that Zuko was only wearing socks.

As he looked around, he couldn’t tell if he found it quaint, or kinda creepy. It was lit by antique thread bulbs, the light warm and dim. Wherever there were windows, there were blackout curtains, tied together in the center. There was the sound of ceramic clacking together in the other room, which he could only assume to be a roommate.

“Do you want some tea?” Zuko asked, beginning towards said room.

“Oh. Uh, sure?” Sokka answered, though it sounded more like a question. Zuko nodded, leading him into a small, but nice, little kitchen, with a man standing in the center.

“Uncle,” Zuko hummed. “This is Sokka.”

“Hello, Sokka,” the man hummed warmly, not looking back to him. “Give me a moment. I assume my nephew has already offered you a drink?”

“Uh, yeah! He has.” he watched as Zuko opened the fridge, pulling out a brown paper—juice box? From a pile of them. Probably weird organic shit. He pulled off the straw, stabbing it into the top.

“Wonderful,” the man poured a second cup, then turning to hand it to Sokka, who had to smile. The man had a warm smile, wrinkles from friendly grins over the years decorating his eyes. He handed him the cup, closing his eyes. “My name is Iroh,” he introduced.

“Oh, thanks. You're, Zuko’s, uh, uncle? Did I catch that?”

“That, I am,” Iroh chuckled. “Thank you for accommodating our odd schedule, Sokka. I need his help in the afternoons in the shop.”

“Oh, so you guys own the cafe place?”

“Why else would we live above it?” Zuko snarked, earning an elbow from his uncle. It made him cough up the sip he just took, wiping the dark juice with his wrist.

“Be nice, Nephew,” he scolded.

“Hey, it’s all good,” Sokka assured. “It was a dumb question. Thank you for the tea.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “You two had ought to get to work.”

“Yeah,” Zuko muttered. “We’ll be up in my room,” he mentioned, walking out of the kitchen, with Sokka on his tail.

The two entered a hallway, then the room at the end. He looked around, smiling some. The room was lived in, and entirely reminded him of the boy before him. An unmade bed, crinkled with a red duvet on white sheets, close to the ground. What looked like sitting pillows, with candles and an empty tea cup, sat in the corner, beside the window. It also had blackout curtains, though they were pulled open to let in the moonlight.

There was a desk on the wall, with an open laptop and dozens of papers and folders strewn about. More of those juice boxes lay empty on the edge and in the trash, along with a few energy drink cans.

“Sorry,” Zuko broke his train of observation, bringing his laptop over to the sitting pillow area. “It’s kinda a mess.”

“You think _this _is a mess? I promise you, Zuko, this is cleaner than my room has ever been. He took his seat on the other cushion, pulling his own computer out of his bag. “I did a little more digging into that PETA article. I mean, I knew it wasn't a trustworthy source, but still. Anyways, I was looking at this guy who adopted livestock to ‘give them a better life’, and one of the things he did was not shearing the sheep. Two of them died because of the urine and shit trapped in their wool attracted maggots and they got super nasty infections.”__

“That’s _so _disgusting. Did you get a citation?”__

“I did! It’s on the Google Doc. It’s really bloody though, so don't look through it if you don't like seeing that kind of stuff.”

“Oh, I'm fine with blood,” Zuko remarked, the faintest hint of a smile on his face. It was the first time Sokka saw him with anything but a deadpan scowl, and he had to admit, he looked nice when he grinned. Unfairly nice, actually.

The two hunkered down to work, though they eventually ended up just watching PETA Cringe videos. Zuko had made a trip down to the kitchen to grab some more juice for himself, along with a bowl of popcorn. He didn’t touch the snack, Sokka noticed, but he wasn’t about to complain about being able to hog all the food.

It was all mocking the narrator and throwing popcorn at the laptop screen. It was honestly, rather nice. And it had to be ruined when Sokka’s phone went off.

He groaned, reaching into his bag to grab it. He read the ID, answered, and set the phone dad. “You’re on speaker, dad. Behave.”

“Yeah, okay,” Hakoda’s voice came from the other end. “Are you still at Zuko’s?”

“Yeah, we’re watching bad documentaries about why sheep shouldn’t be sheared.”

“Do some people actually believe that?” He scoffed, making Sokka grin.

“Apparently. Anyways, what’s up?”

“When do you plan on being home? It’s getting late.”

“From that tone of voice, I’ll go on a limb and say now?”

“Good answer, son. I’ll see you soon.”

Sokka groaned, pushing himself up to stand. “Guess that’s my cue. I’ll keep looking into blackleg treatments and put them on the shared notes.”

“Sounds good,” Zuko hummed. “Get something to eat.”

“I could say the same for you,” he teased. “See you Wednesday.”

“I mean, we share our stats class. I just sit in the back.” Sokka raised a brow.

“Then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyways I stan commenters


	3. Mutual Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some description of emesis towards the end, read with caution

**_Did you hear those wolves out last night? They got pretty close up here—you guys good by the campus?_ **

It was quite the concerning message to come back to. God forbid that Hakoda got word that they’d been noticed on the nicer side of town. Not only would it fall on them not being allowed out, but it would fall back on Sokka. It was him who was over there, after all.

He wasn't thinking correctly, that was all. While tracking a stag, he had caught an oddly familiar scent, and broken off from his family to follow it. He supposed it would be ultimately concerning to see a wild dog with his nose pressed into the ground as he got ever closer to the suburbs, where people were. But, genuinely, he was just curious. The smell was strong, and fresh, so whatever was trailing it must only be a few steps ahead of him.

When he got closer to storefronts and apartments, he noted that he suddenly recognized where he was. What was unaffectionately referred to as the “lower ring of the upper ring,” aka, where The Jasmine Dragon and other shops that catered towards the rich, but were small enough that they couldn't be in the main part of the upper ring, stood. And when he noticed the recent flapping of blackout curtains on a second story window, it clicked that he had just tracked Zuko.

He sat down, letting out something between a huff and a growl. Why the hell was Zuko out, this late, in the wooded areas of the lower ring? And why had he picked up on his scent so easily?

So, yeah, seeing he’d been noticed, wasn't the best.

_What wolves???????_ He responded, deciding playing dumb here was a decent strategy.

**_Oh, there was a Mackenzie Valley wolf(???) outside last night. I've just never seen anything but Himalayans out here. Just thought it was weird that it was a different kind but it seemed really chill around the city. Idk stupid question_ **

_Hold up ur telling me you can't tell cow breeds apart but you can discern an mv wolf from a Himalayan wolf_

**_Idk it was grey on the top and had blue eyes so I assumed  
Listen i kinda like zoology why do you think I took animal science  
I'm just more into herpetology than mammalogy_ **

So, not only had Zuko heard him, he had seen him, and seen him well. And, holy shit, did he know his stuff.

_Lmao cute  
If you like herps more why do you have a cat_

_**landlord  
But I originally wanted to get a Komodo and name him Druk but the cat holds that name for now  
Tbh he's a little sunbathing bastard so really. Just a hairy lizard lol ** _

_lol  
Oki gtg c u in stat_

There was no return of goodbye.

So, he had to get this straight. Hot boy, smart boy, smart boy that knew wolf breeds, apparently, dark and broody, how did this guy not have a girlfriend yet?

Well, he was awfully awkward. And kinda mean, but in a weirdly endearing way. Sokka was just pretty sure the guy had never had a friend. And he said so to his sister and her friends the next day.

“I don't know,” Sokka shrugged. “It’s not like he’s a mean dude, but I don't think he knows how to talk to people. After we hung out for a minute, he was fine. And he’s actually pretty cool. He just… needs friends.”

“That’s a lot of words for ‘I've got a crush on the mean emo kid,’ Sokka,” Toph deadpanned, which resulted in everyone in the dorm bursting into laughter. He glared at each and every one of them. Toph, in the short time he'd known her, had learned to pick apart every single aspect of his personality, seemingly only to tease him. “But, for real. Invite him over and we’ll buy food.”

He, along with her boyfriend (how had she gotten one so quickly?), had started a little tradition of just hanging out at Toph’s (and her roommate Suki’s) dorm every Saturday, and while it wasn't a party, per se, it could be.

Sokka pulled out his phone. _Oi bro are you still working_

_**No  
Y**_   
The message came through all too quickly, and it made him smile.

_Lol come hang w us. Haiza building room 619_

**_Toph’s????_ **

Sokka whipped his head up, looking over to Toph. “Do you guys know each other?” He asked.

“Mayhaps,” Toph hummed, grinning slyly.

_Ya  
She's gonna order food ___

_**K omw she knows what to get me** _

Sokka clicked his tongue, folding his arms. “So were you going to tell me you two were all buddy-buddy?” Sokka asked, leaning back on the couch.

“Eh—not super important. You’re right, though, he doesn’t have any other friends. He had a girlfriend and hung out with his sister’s other friend before he moved out here, but if you ask me, he hated all of them.”

“Even his sister?”

“Especially his sister. I don’t know a ton about her past her name, but she seems mean.”

“I don’t think you can _hate _your siblings,” Katara interjected. “Heavily dislike, maybe. But I don’t think you can hate them.”__

“No, man. He hates her,” Toph shrugged. “Anyways, Sokka, get on doordash on my computer, yeah?”

Sokka groaned, pushing himself up. Why did he have to be the one to do it? “What restaurant are we ordering from?”

“Place called Café Trang. It’s a Phở place.” after she assumed he found it, she began, “I’ll do a #3. Zuko just takes milk coffee. Then, you all can get what you want. My card taps into my dad’s, so don’t worry about the cash.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged. They all passed the laptop around, picking and choosing what they wanted to eat before ordering.

In about twenty minutes, the door rang. The food wasn’t labeled as done yet, so that would be Zuko. Katara’s boyfriend, Aang, was the one to pop up and open it. Zuko stood, hood up, umbrella in hand. Which—why exactly did he have an umbrella? It was sunny out. “Hi!” Aang greeted enthusiastically. “You must be Zuko!”

“Uh, yup, that’s me,” he responded awkwardly pulling down his hood as he pulled his hood down. He waved to those he knew, giving a verbal greeting to toph, but stopped at Katara. “Uh, you’re…?”

“Katara,” she filled in quickly. “Sokka’s sister.”

“Oh. Cool,” he nodded, taking a seat on the arm of the small sofa, pulling his feet up. Suki and Toph fell back into their previous conversation, so Sokka had to assume it was normal for him to just be quiet. Even so, Sokka shoved him gently.

“So, besides not sleeping, how are you doing, bud?”

“Fine,” he answered plainly. Once he caught on to the fact he was supposed to keep the conversation going, he sighed gently. “Uh, tea shop is kinda whacky right now. A kid and his gang keep coming in and being super rude to all of our regulars. It’s pretty shitty.”

“Yeah?” Sokka grinned. “Want me to come beat his ass? Cause, I totally will.”

“If his ass needed to be beaten, Zuko would have done it already,” Toph interjected.

“Piss off,” Zuko chuckled. “He’s a customer…”

“You seem like you could kill a man,” Toph grinned. Zuko visibly froze up, shrugging.

“Eh. It’s… whatever. Just gotta figure it out, or ignore him… he just seems like he wants to make me mad. I’m just trying to ignore it.”

“How mature,” Sokka chuckled, shaking his head. “I would kick his fucking ass.”

“Some day,” he sighed, closing his eyes, tilting his head back.

They fell into simple conversation, Zuko only speaking when he was asked something specifically. When the food got there, everyone just sat back to eat and talk. It was honestly, rather nice.

Until Sokka noticed Zuko quietly slip away. Sokka really didn't think much of it. After all, bathroom breaks were normal. But after ten minutes, and odd noises… ones he knew Katara heard too, he decided to go check on him.

“Zuko?” He asked softly, knocking quietly on the door. Not only was it unlocked, but not even closed. It opened with the knock, as if Zuko had rushed in with no time to close and lock it. However, once opened, he saw that was probably the case, with Zuko hunched over the toilet, dry heaving what little was left in his stomach into the basin. “Yo, buddy, are you okay?”

Zuko spat some mixture of bile and mucus into the water, raising his head, exhaustion apparent on his face. “Uck, yeah. I’m fine,” he lied. Sokka came closer, placing his hand on his back. The basin was full of a reddish brown bile, with a few chunks of solid food. He looked away, back to his face.

“Are you sure?” he asked, rubbing his shoulder. “You’ve been here for a while, dude. You shouldn’t still be gagging…” he tilted his head a bit.

“I ate something earlier, my stomach didn’t like it,” he murmured.

“What did you eat, then?”

“Some of those steak kebabs from the place by the cafeteria…” he looked down. “Probably undercooked, or something.”

“Well… I’m not too sure about letting you walk home when you’re so nauseous.”

“And what would you do about it?” he laughed dryly, sitting back on his heels and flushing the toilet.

“Well… I can ask my dad if you can crash at our place overnight. It’s like, a five minute walk.”

“You sure?” he asked, looking up with a huff.

“Totally, I’ll go ahead and call him. Just gimme a minute, okay?”

“Thank you…” he mumbled. “Can you get me a glass of water, please?”

“Yep.” Sokka turned to enter the kitchenette, putting his dad on dial and speaker as he grabbed a glass to fill with the faucet.

“What’s up?” Hakoda eventually answered, “You guys all okay?”

“Yeah! All good. Uhhh, wanted to ask if Zuko could crash at our place? He’s blowing chunks and it’s like a thirty minute walk to his place.”

He heard the ruffling of papers, and his father’s quiet for a moment. “Yeah,” He eventually answered.

“Cool, cool. We’ll be back in a while. Thanks!”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

_Click._

Sokka shut off the faucet, bringing the glass back in to Zuko. The latter took a swig of it, swirling it around his mouth before spitting it into the basin. It was tainted a warm red, causing some concern to Sokka, but he said nothing. “Okay, let’s get you resting.”


	4. Paralysis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of chapter yesterday! My coven and I did a belated Lughnasadh, matinal Sturgeon Moon celebration and I was high off my ass on coltsfoot and catnip lol. Didn't trust myself to write. I'll probably end up putting out another chapter later today to make up for it.

Sokka was honestly surprised that Zuko even made the walk to their little home. The guy looked like he was going to pass out, and had to lean against Sokka for most of the trip. When the door was opened, he quickly ushered to the sofa, lying him down gently.

“Jeez, man, you’re really… dead-looking,” Sokka mumbled. Zuko rolled his eyes, smiling some.

“Gee, thanks.” The sentiment was accompanied by a tired chuckle, his eyes slipping closed. “Thank you for letting me crash…”

“No problem, dude. Let me go get you a blanket and then I’ll just let you rest, yeah?” he asked, pushing himself to stand. He left to enter a short hallway, then a little closet piled high with blankets and towels. He retrieved a heavy fur blanket they had brought from home, tossing it over his shoulder to deliver to the other. He draped it over Zuko when he got back to the sofa, who sighed and grabbed at it. “You call me if you need anything, okay? The bathroom is right there,” he pointed to the door beside the closet, “If you get sick again. I’m at the very end of the hall, and my dad’s office is right by the front door.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, wriggling around to face the backrest of the couch. Sokka smiled fondly, tilting his head as he watched him get comfortable. He glanced out the window to the darkened skyline, the moon barely a fingernail crescent now. He pulled the curtains closed, before retreating to his room.

It wasn’t hard for Zuko to pass out when he was so weak—stomach empty, muscles exhausted. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, so he was barely taking up one and a half couch cushions of the four he was provided.

Three and a half hours into the night, though, he found himself restless, his eyes barely opening to stare at the twill upholstery before him. The hair on the back of his neck was standing straight up, with an odd feeling in the back of his head. He groaned quietly, turning over in an attempt to fall back into the peaceful sleep he rarely ever got.

Though, when he turned to face the ottoman, he figured out why he felt so odd. Sokka’s dad—who he had only seen in passing when he had entered—was sitting a few meters away, his arms folded, eyes trained on him. He blinked a few times, propping himself up on his elbow. “Hi?” he asked sleepily, blinking several times to adjust his eyes to the darkness, which didn’t take long.

“So, you’re Zuko?” Hakoda asked. Zuko caught the hint of distaste in his voice, making him frown.

“Uhm, yes...sir,” he answered, reverting back to a forced politeness in the presence of a father figure.

“You know,” he wondered, “I’m surprised my children haven’t noticed yet. I saw you for three minutes, maybe, and it was quite easy to know what you are.” Zuko seemed to entirely wake up then, pushing himself to sit up fully.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, paranoia plain as day in his voice. Hakoda let something out between a chuckle and a scoff, just shaking his head.

“How did you get that scar, I wonder? I thought your bodies were impervious to most forms of trauma.” Zuko didn’t answer, just reaching up to touch his eye. “Must have been a terribly awful injury, to leave so much inflammation.” the two just stared at each other for a while, in complete silence.

“Holy water,” Zuko finally mumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest to hold them close to his body. Hakoda quirked a brow, tilting his head aside.

“And what religious fanatic did that?” he asked. “Were you found out, or something?”

“I would really… rather not talk about that,” he laughed weakly, looking down.

“No, no, I’d love to hear. Tell me, it obviously didn’t do enough to kill you. So how long did it take you to recover and kill them?” his voice was full of malice, and Zuko had to wonder how many of his kind he had met to recognize him so quickly, to have such a strong hatred.

“I don’t kill people,” he defended quickly, shaking his head. “If I can help it…” he held his hands up in surrender, clearly fearing for his life at this point.

“Is that so?” he sighed. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, narrowing his eyes. “Listen, before we discuss this any further, I’m only going to warn you once. If you sink your teeth into either of my children, if you hurt them in any way, I’m going to make sure you’re sent to a deeper Hell than you came from.”

Zuko swallowed in an effort to wet his mouth, dry from anxiety. “Yes, sir…” he mumbled, looking down.

“Good,” Hakoda nodded slowly. “Sokka seems to like you, for some reason, and if he didn’t you would be dead. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, yeah—crystal clear.”

The man leaned back as he unfolded his arms, any violent and threatening posture quickly dissipating. Zuko went from entirely terrified, to somewhat comfortable, in a minute. “Born or turned?”

“Born,” he answered, his posture relaxing, only if slightly.

“Paternal or maternal?”

“Both,” he mumbled.

“Hm,” he glanced to the window. “You probably have quite the appetite, then.” Zuko flinched, nodding a bit. “But you don’t kill people.”

“I do my best not to…”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t… kill people unless I'm frenzied,” he was choosing his words carefully.

“Okay, you’ll have to forgive me, I’m not too sure what that means.”

“Uh, a month or so on an empty stomach, we more or less get forced into feeding… lots of ghrelin and testosterone and serotonin, and stuff. And they don’t settle down until you’re full. Probably like four litres. Kill about nine people. Ten if you get someone small or hypervolemic. Assholes will drain people to like, a stage two hemorrhage and leave them to bleed out, so you kill about double. My sister does that. But she doesn’t frenzy often.” he shrugged. “She eats whenever she wants to.”

“And you don’t?”

“Well,” he rubbed his arm. “If you’re trying to go about it in a way that doesn’t entail breaking into people’s houses and injuring them,” he shrugged. Hakoda furrowed his brows, sitting up.

“So how do you get your food?” he asked. “Animals?”

“Animal blood makes me kinda sick,” he shook his head. “But, I could. I guess. But, we just… we had... a deal with one of the higher-ups at Biomat. We got enough to survive. Leftovers, basically.”

“Hm,” he nodded. “I’ve… never met a vampire who makes an attempt to avoid violence.”

“I assumed you haven’t,” he chuckled. “My uncle’s a pacifist. I moved in with him a few years back. I ate normally when I was living with my dad. He’s not that great of a person.”

“I can imagine,” he responded softly. “I apologize if I scared you.”

“It’s fine. I would have killed me too, if I were you.”

“Hey, there was a stipulation,” Hakoda chuckled. “I thought you were grooming my son, or something.” Zuko scrunched his nose up, shaking his head.

“I’m not. I promise,” he raised his right hand, looking down.

“Good choice,” Hakoda nodded, pushing himself to stand. “Get your rest, son.”


	5. Midnight Romps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legitimately entirely unrelated to the story but we’ve been debating whether I, as a person, am more like Zuko or Azula, with the main problem being my self-esteem. I’m too mean to be Zuko but too self-depreciating to be Azula. None of you know me, however, I’ve gotten multiple comments on my updates and notes (I.e., my writing when I’m simply talking) that I talk like Azula—not an entirely outlandish claim, I’m vaguely sociopathic with a large vernacular—this should not be eating up at me as much as it is but holy shit

_Your call has been forwarded to an automated messaging system. The person you are trying to contact is not available. At the tone, please record your message. When you’ve finished recording, you may hang up, or press one for more options._

This was the twelfth time this week Sokka was greeted with a robotic voice and a long beep when attempting to reach Zuko.

“Hey, Zuko, buddy, it’s Sokka. I, uh, I’m starting to get pretty worried about you, dude. Per usual, uh, call me back. Please. I’m paranoid.”

_Click. ___

Sokka groaned, dropping his phone onto the bed. Zuko hadn’t shown up to class, nor answered his calls, in a week—not since he had had that bout of nausea. Sokka assumed, the first few days, that he was just recovering from the apparent food poisoning he had apparently contracted from shitty college campus meat. He also assumed, in that same vein, that Zuko had just been sleeping too much to catch calls or return texts. However, after day three, Sokka’s head had begun to swim with the worst possible case scenarios he could think of. He had asked any and all mutual friends of theirs if they were able to get in touch with him, but aside from Toph and Suki, none of them had even noticed that he had gone dark.

It was a stupid idea, and he knew it, but with the moon pushing itself to its fullest, he couldn’t help but want to go see if he could catch a glimpse of him before he did something so drastic as coming in during the day.

He let his dad know that he would be taking a walk—which, they both knew, entailed more than just walking out the front door, so late at night. Sokka always got out to a wooded, or similarly private area outside before he dared to turn. He couldn’t imagine the calls their house would get if someone noticed a wolf on the property. And these days, he was able to keep himself quiet as his bones cracked and rearranged themselves, so he wasn’t particularly worried about that.

That was one thing he hated about the transformation. Yes, it was uncomfortable regardless, but after all these years, the sound of bones snapping still made him queasy. But when it was done, though, it was done, and he could proceed to running through the forest in the general direction of the Jasmine Dragon. He knew his chances were low, to see Zuko, but he felt it was worth a try.

He slowed down to a brisk walk when he got within the lighted suburb of the downtown area, keeping himself alert as he passed the neighboring shops. The normal smells of food and people definitely muddled his senses enough that he was grateful he knew where he was going. Had he been tracking, he wasn’t sure if he could keep track of the scent.

In his head, he really wasn’t expecting to see what he was searching for. So, to immediately spot Zuko, legs hanging out of the window adjacent to his bed, was a rush of emotions. He was alive, that’s what was important, and what he had come to confirm. He was holding a tumbler of what he could only assume was tea in his lap, staring up at the sky.

Sokka could swear he saw Zuko’s ears twitch as he padded his way over to the shop, breaking leaves and dry grass. The boy looked down to the wolf as soon as he heard him, staring at him for a few long moments. Sokka was frozen as he disappeared inside, but just as soon reappeared at the back door of the shop. He didn’t move past the small cement porch, just sitting down and pulling out his phone to snap a photo of the animal before him.

All Sokka could think was, what an idiot. If he were dealing with a wild animal, and that animal attacked, he would be absolutely fucked.

Zuko eventually put his phone down, scrolling through the pictures he’d taken. “Aren’t you pretty?” He wondered, his voice terribly strained and croaking.

He slowly sat down, keen eyes raking over him. He looked… tired. Tired, and emaciated. His eyes were dark, pupils the size of pinpricks. His shoulders and torso were covered in a fleece blanket, gloves covering his hands. He was shivering, despite them.

The two just stared at each other, Zuko occasionally sipping his tea and doing something or other on his phone. Sokka eventually stood, beginning closer to the porch. Zuko didn’t tense up or prepare to run (as he very well should have), rather tilting his head at the beast as he sat down with him on the porch.

“Sorry, buddy, don’t have any food,” Zuko laughed weakly. “What are you doing out here all alone?” He asked, and Sokka had to admit, _his puppy voice was adorable _. Sokka’s left ear pressed back, making the boy smile. “What, do you like me, or something?”__

He carefully (and very slowly) reached up to pet his head. “I don’t know why else you’d show up again.” Sokka found it painstakingly cute that he was talking to what seemed to be something that couldn’t comprehend words, and he found his tail sweeping leaves from the concrete below him. He allowed Zuko to scratch the back of his head, tilting and leaning into his hands. He nearly made some noise of protest. “Let me get you some water, big guy. You must be tired.” He slowly, _very _slowly, pushing himself up to stand. Every movement he made seemed laborious. He left the door open when he entered the house, before coming back with a metal bowl full of cold water, along with a piece of sourdough bread. He set them down, seeming to nearly fall over when he squatted.__

“There you go,” he mumbled, catching himself with his hand before he hit the ground painfully. Sokka let out a worried whine, making Zuko stare and blink for a moment. “Well, aren’t you smart,” he chuckled, holding the bread out to the other. He said nothing else as he carefully took the food from his hand, setting it down so he could rip it to bits. While he was eating, Zuko silently rose to his feet, patting his head before disappearing inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have 2669 words prepared for chapter six... and I don’t think I’m gonna be using any of them, lol


	6. Calm Down

_I’m coming over. Idc if you want to see me or not I’m worried thanks ___

That was the only warning Zuko had gotten before Sokka had convinced Iroh to let him visit. He thanked the gods above that Iroh trusted him enough to hand him the key, because, after the night’s events, Sokka was even more concerned about the boy’s wellbeing than before. He wasted little time making his way towards his room, his steps quick and panicked. He knocked on the door, begging any god that could hear him that he’d get an answer.

“Get out,” Zuko growled, making Sokka frown. He knocked again.

“Hey, buddy, Zuko,” Sokka hummed, slowly opening the door. “It’s me.” The room had fallen into some kind of disrepair—crumpled clothes and water bottles strewn other the floor. Several drawings, all recreations of renaissance sketches, covered his desk, along with a few snapped pencils. “It’s me.”

“ _Get out! _” he repeated, curling up further under his covers. While Zuko was always pale and sunken, it looked so much worse now—worse than he had looked under the layers and lowlights. He was shaking, holding his stomach.__

“Hey, bud.” He slowly made his way over, gingerly sitting down beside him. “How are you doing?”

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, turning over to face the wall.

“Zuko,” his voice was incredibly soft, “I’m really worried about you, dude. Talk to me,” he asked, setting his hand on where he presumed to be his shoulder.

“ _Don’t fucking touch me! _” he lashed, whipping up to slap him away. And—did he just snap his jaws at Sokka? It was so incredibly different from seeing him the night before, found and kind and loving. It kind of hurt.__

“Zuko,” he tried again. “I’m really worried about you.” He didn’t know why he was so damn upset, but he knew there was a reason. He wasn’t just being mean.

“You should be more worried about yourself,” he hissed. “Get the fuck away from me!” Sokka flinched at the harshness, but caught his hands, forcing him to stay still.

“Look at me, Zuko,” he cooed. “Tell me what’s wrong. It’s clear you haven’t been sleeping… or eating. I’m worried.”

Zuko tried to pull away, but found himself too weak to do so. “Why the fuck are you being so insistive?”

“Because,” he sighed. “I care about you. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

He felt Zuko stop moving, stop struggling away from him. His eyes went glassy, and Sokka could practically see the gears turning and clicking behind his eyes. “Yes,” he responded slowly.

“Okay, and that would be?”

There was another moment of silence. He waited patiently for an answer, but it never came. The only thing Zuko said was, “Jesus, your dad is gonna kill me.”

Next thing he knew, Zuko was straddling his lap with his mouth on his neck. A million and a half things nearly came out of his mouth, some were snarky jokes, some were patented bisexual panic. But each and every one of them died on his lips when he felt several sharp teeth break the skin of his neck. Sokka let out some panicked yelp, instinctively trying to push Zuko away, but an inhumanly strong grip was keeping him firmly in place. When the initial opening was made, he couldn’t help but feel like this was just the most violent hickey he’d ever get. Because now, it was just Zuko sucking and licking at his neck. Was it kinda hot? Unfortunately. Did he maybe let out a few gasps and sighs? Perhaps. The fact that Zuko was panting and moaning against his neck? Didn't help.

Zuko’s mouth was soon replaced with his hand, holding the wound while he pulled away to look up at him. “You still awake?” He asked. His face was flush with adrenaline, his pupils blown wide and dark.

He blinked blearily, nodding weakly. “Uh, yeah,” Sokka answered after a moment. Awake, but dizzy. The short confirmation was all Zuko needed to return to his neck. In some kind of mix of shock and blood loss, and some hazy voice in the back of his head, Sokka didn't find himself wanting to pull away, or panic, or run. After maybe five minutes, Zuko gently took his hand, leading him to hold it against the wound.

“Hold that,” he instructed slowly, climbing off of his lap to open his closet. He retrieved a first aid kit, one specifically made for blood loss, before sitting back down beside him. He moved Sokka's hand, dragging his tongue against the wound one last time before pressing a square of gauze onto it, holding it there with a fair amount of pressure for a while before replacing it with a large, rectangular bandage.

He grabbed Sokka's hand, the one that had been covered in blood, and licked it clean. It was only now that he finally found words to speak. “What the hell just happened?” He asked.

“You just lost about three pints of blood,” Zuko closed the first aid kit, licking his lips. “Lay down. You'll pass out anyways. I'll explain more after you slept.

He nodded after a moment, slowly lying down. He didn't have much time to wonder about his situation, because Zuko wasn't kidding. He couldn't keep awake even if he wanted to.

He woke up neatly tucked in Zuko’s bed, which, by god, _really did smell like blood _, now that he thought about it. It wasn’t unpleasant, as it was muddled with the scents of jasmine and patchouli, but Jesus.__

He groaned a bit, turning over and blinking blearily at the boy at the desk. “Zuko?” He asked, sighing a bit.

“You’re awake,” he observed. He looked much better now, a little more… alive.“Don’t sit up too quickly,” he instructed, “Probably stay here overnight. Uncle got you some food.”

“Food,” he repeated, “food sounds good…” he mumbled. He reached up to his neck, running his fingers over the bandage. “Pretty fucking intense hickey, dude,” he made an attempt to joke. “You gonna explain that?”

Zuko reddened, though did laugh. “I'm, um, I'm a vampire.”

“...I feel like I should be a lot more worried about that than I am,” he remarked.

“Uh, yeah. You're pretty pumped full of venom.”

“Venom?”

“Yeah… a pretty specific sedative to just calm you down, so there's not much struggle. I don't know how much it helps with the pain, though.”

“I'm sore,” he remarked, slowly sitting up. “Are you… feeling better, at least? I'm assuming you were hungry…”

“Much,” Zuko smoked faintly. “Thank you, for that. Um, I’m sorry for my behavior.” He sighed heavily, looking away. What do you… um, Wanna know?”

“How long did you go without eating?” He asked immediately, mostly just worried about Zuko’s wellbeing.

“Three weeks and four days,” he answered. “I technically don't need to eat, it isn't like starvation will kill me. I just get more irritated and murderous and…” he shook his head. “We had a steady supply of food through a phlebotomist, but she… isn't around anymore,” he explained. “I was trying to eat regular food, but that just made me really, really sick. I'm… really really sorry for snapping on you. Please don't let your dad find out.”

“What?” He chuckled. “Why him, specifically?”

“He told me if I ever bit either of you, he’d, quote, ‘send me to a deeper hell than I came from,’ uh, yeah. He’ll kill me.”

“Wait—he knew?”

“Yeah. Not sure how, but he gave me a… very stern talking to about it…”

“Huh,” he mumbled, looking down. “Okay, so I gotta ask. How do the teeth work? Like, how do they just… become sharp?”

“Oh, they don't. They’re completely separate from my actual teeth,” he explained, pushing himself up to go sit by Sokka. “They rest under my gums on top of my normal teeth.” He pulled his lip up on one side, pointing out where they sat just below the skin, red and irritated punctures where they emerged.

“Yo,” Sokka marveled, “that's so cool. Does it hurt to like, get them out?”

“Not really. I just end up sore.”

“Can I, like, see them?” He asked. “Is that weird?”

“I mean, probably not. You're the only human to have any recollection of me feeding,” he chuckled lamely. He closed his mouth, seeming to move his tongue around and flex his jaw. Then, he opened to show his fangs. “Ta-da,” he exclaimed, dripping with sarcasm.

“Woah,” he wondered. They were so much sharper than his ever got, narrowing to the width of a pin. There were eight, each lateral incisor and canine fronted with an elongated fang. “I thought you would only have two.”

“Common misconception,” he shrugged. “Two punctures wouldn't get a good flow growing. Eight do,” he smiled, lopsided with his scar restricting the movement on the left side of his face.

“Hm,” he murmured. After a moment, without asking (or thinking, really), he found himself reaching up to gently press his thumb against the smooth front of his fang. Zuko didn't flinch, though he closed his eye as he did his best to stay still, not wanting to accidentally cut him. It was in vain, though, as Sokka slid his finger down, inevitably cutting the pad of his finger when it caught on the sharp edge.

Zuko quickly reached up to hold his wrist, dragging his tongue flat against the small wound. Sokka had to chuckle as he closed his lips around his thumb, tilting his head. “Still hungry?” He asked, allowing him to drain what little blood the scratch produced.

“You can't just…” he let out a sigh through his nose, closing his eyes. “You can't just… put blood in my mouth and…” he loosened his grip on his wrist, his tongue stained red.

“I know,” he assured, only pulling away when Zuko completely let go. “It’s kinda cute,” he cooed.

“Oh, shut up,” he rolled his eyes, licking his lips, smearing blood around his mouth. He reached up to wipe his mouth on his wrist.

“Seriously, though, are you still hungry? I can… help out, until you guys get some other source of food.”

He watched the other fiddle with his sleeves, making him look away under the gaze. “You… don’t have to do that, Sokka. I know it isn’t the most pleasant experience, and I don’t want you to end up sick, and—”

“Dude, it’s ok, it’s ok. I’m offering. Besides, if you drink like, small amounts more often, we’ll both end up fine. And it wasn’t terrible, in any case.” _In fact, it was kinda hot _, his mind provided, ever so unhelpfully. Sure, Zuko was handsome as all hell, but so far, he was pretty able to ignore it. But…__

“I’ll think about it,” Zuko smiled shyly. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Your blood, uh, it’s really good,” he mumbled, low enough that Sokka wasn’t sure he even heard it.

“Well,” he chuckled. “I’ll stay hydrated, then.”


	7. Thanks

_yo are you still serious about that whole,,,, helping out until we get more food thing_

It had been a week and a half since Zuko had snapped and attacked Sokka. He found it rather funny that Zuko would be so sure he would change his mind in such a short amount of time—like hell he would bluff about something like that.

**_Lmao yeah  
I thought you’d already ask by now. Ngl pretty impressive_ **

_Sjfhfsldkjflksj whatever  
I’m doing my best to space it out_

**_You don’t have to lmao  
I’m in class rn but how’s 2_ **

_:)  
Door’s open_

**_Neat, c u then_ **

Sokka set his phone down to continue with his notes. He’d received a few odd looks and plenty of teasing about the dark bruise that peaked out from beneath his collar, mostly from Toph after she had been made aware of it, courtesy of Suki. Sokka felt that Toph knew exactly who it had come from, but if she did, she had been kind enough not to mention it. Unlike his father, who had mentioned it before he even looked at it.

“So, he ended up biting you anyways?” Hakoda had murmured, not even looking back to his son from the work he was doing.

“What?” Sokka stammered, checking to make sure the hood of his sweatshirt was still covering the bandage. It was.

“That vampire boy,” Hakoda rolled his eyes. “You smell like blood.”

“I—uh, it wasn’t like that, dad, I promise, please don’t kill him—”

“Then do explain,” he sighed, finally spinning around to look at him.

“Well, I mean, he was really sick. And I asked him if there was anything I could do and he said yeah and—I mean, he was really nice about it, and he patched me up really well and gave me food and water and stuff. It was just kinda like donating blood, but I passed out. I mean—I promise I’m fine! He was fine. We’re all good.”

“I made it very clear to him that he was not to injure you or your sister,” Hakoda growled. “He knows better.”

“He was going crazy, dad! And it was fine! Please, let it slide, I’m completely okay and he took really good care of me!”

Sokka didn’t know how he got it through to him to not murder Zuko, now that he thought of it.

He closed his laptop after his work was done, carefully putting everything back in his bag. He wasn’t normally so careful with his papers, but these were blueprints, and he wasn’t going to take the risk to mess them up.

He made sure he was allowed to be dismissed, before walking out to begin towards the shop. He busied himself with scrolling mindlessly through several social medias, nearly running into a post once or twice with his reluctance to look up.

He entered the shop, finally putting his phone in his pocket and looking up. He offered a wave to Iroh when he saw him, motioning that he would be upstairs—and was met with a nod. He smiled gently, rushing upstairs as quietly as the creaky steps would allow. He offered a courtesy knock, which received no answer, before letting himself in. The apartment was a little messier, showing Zuko had been out of his room much more often. Which, he knew, as he’d begun to come back to class. “Zuko?” He called, meandering back to the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

“In my room,” the other called, muffled through the closed door. He smiled some, turning the doorknob to quietly open the door.

“Hey,” he greeted. He didn’t look terrible, but Sokka could see the hollows of his cheeks.

“Hi,” Zuko hummed, typing something out before looking up. “How was class?”

“Pretty good,” he answered. “Mr. Liu was being a fucking jerk, though. Marked me down because I used the wrong spacing, one and three quarters, instead of double.”

“That’s college for you,” Zuko chuckled. “Do you have Ms. Qian? She’ll knock you down for stuff like that.”

“No, what does she teach?”

“Anthropology.”

“Yeah, the closest I get to anthropology is architectural history,” he hummed.

“That sounds like a fun class,” Zuko wondered, looking over at him. “Okay, I’m giving you one last chance to back out of this.”

“Would I have braved the twenty minute walk up here if I was just gonna pussy out of it?” He scoffed. “Cause I wouldn’t.”

“Hey, man, I’m just making sure!” Zuko defended. “Just…” he shook his head, pushing himself to stand up. “Do you want me to reopen that wound, or would you rather I let it heal and go somewhere else, or…” he shrugged.

“Maybe just somewhere easier to hide? Like, uh… where’s other good places?”

“Anywhere close enough to an artery or main vein. Uh, inner elbow, wrist, back of the hand, shoulder… a few places on the legs, but… that gets a little…” he shook his head.

“Shoulder,” Sokka decided. “Shoulder’s fine.”

“Got it,” he nodded, standing up to examine the collar of his shirt. “You’ll probably have to take this off.”

Sokka felt any blood in his shoulders promptly rush to his face. “Okay,” he nodded, reaching up over his head. He grabbed at the back of his tee, pulling it up until he could reach the hem, then pulling it over his head.

“Sit down,” Zuko mumbled. “You still might pass out. I’ll only take a half a pint, probably.

“Yeah,” he nodded, slowly sitting down on the bed. He felt Zuko climb on behind him, gently setting his hands on either side of his neck.

“Try not to flinch,” he murmured. “It will hurt more, if you do,” he whispered. He gave him a squeeze on the shoulders, before he felt what was comparable to an open-mouth kiss to his trapezius, the cold breath on his skin making him shiver. Despite what Zuko had said, when he felt teeth in his skin, he winced, gasping quietly.

Zuko’s teeth stayed in his skin for a while, his tongue flicking around to catch stray drops and pooling blood. His hands moved as he drank, one draping over to hold his chest, the other hooking under his arm to hold him close.

The teeth slowly retracted from his muscle, with Zuko lapping and siphoning the blood from his wound. He tilted his head back, letting out a slow sigh as his tongue lifted up the edges of the punctures. The sounds Zuko made were akin to ones a food critic would make when partaking in a particularly delicious dish, Sokka thought. Maybe he shouldn’t flatter himself, though—Zuko had said his blood was _good, _but he couldn’t be terribly different from others.__

It was less violent than the last, noting it wouldn’t bruise nearly as dark this time—which was rather disappointing, if he were plainly honest. Maybe there was an appeal to that, he thought. Maybe the only reason he hadn't freaked out, besides being used to this kind of stuff, was that the kid he kind of had a crush on being on his neck and leaving marks was attractive. And besides the teeth, the whole process was rather enjoyable for him. He got to be unbearably close to Zuko, with his mouth on his neck… the only downside was the dizziness that came after. Honestly, a win for everyone involved.

He felt Zuko’s lip break from his skin, resting to pant heavily against his skin. His tongue lapped lazily against the dripping blood as he caught his breath, finally pulling away to find the gauze he had ended up storing closer this time. He cleaned the wound one final time before sealing it closed, resting his forehead against the back of Sokka’s neck. He couldn't help but smile, reaching back over his shoulder to grab Zuko’s sleeve.

“You okay, buddy?” He asked, squeezing his arm.

“Mhm…” he mumbled, nodding faintly. “M'fine...you?”

“I'm alright,” he assured. “You're breathing hard.”

“Heart starts beating,” he explained shortly.

“Do you not have a pulse, normally?”

“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head. Sokka gently pulled away, turning to look at him. He gently placed his hand on Zuko's chest, feeling the rapid rapping under his skin, the quick and panicked rise and fall of his breathing. He smiled, quirking his head to the side. He looked beyond sleepy, seeming like eating had sucked out all his energy.

“Do you need a nap?”

“No… I'm ok,” He lied, shaking his head.

“You're tired,” he chuckled, taking his shoulders. Zuko shrugged, letting his eyes close. Sokka stared at him for a moment, finding it hard to resist the urge to press a kiss to his head. So,he didn’t. He let his lips brush against Zuko’s forehead, leading him to lay down. He could see Zuko thinking, sighing softly. He didn't have the effort to say anything, just curling into a ball. 

“Don't… stand up,” he mumbled, and then, he was out.


	8. Wake Up

Zuko came to some few hours after midnight. The sun wasn't up, there was no sunlight to scramble and hide from. It had been years since he had slept this long—what, twelve hours? He knew it was an effect of eating normally, because it was a common occurrence when he was living with his father. Then again, he was quite young, maybe… oh, well, he couldn’t really think of it too hard right now, because there was an arm draped over his waist, a head tucked into his shoulder, steady breathing ticking the nape of his neck. His eyes flicked down to glance at Sokka, who was sleeping peacefully beside him, head resting on his chest.

He wasn’t sure if Sokka had fallen asleep with him, or if he had perhaps left and came back, and he wasn’t too sure which one seemed to be worse. Maybe he had allowed him to siphon his body heat, eventually succumbing to sleep, himself. Zuko wasn’t dumb enough to move and wake the other. That would make it a million times more awkward, and he was incredibly comfortable. He sighed softly, settling back into the pillow. The movement elicited a whine from Sokka, making him tighten his grip on Zuko. He had to wonder, right then—he reminded him of something like a big old puppy. He smiled faintly, his fangs still out, catching his lip as it raised. He reached to brush his fingers over the freshly-shaven buzz of the back of his head. He let his eyes close.

He didn’t think he would fall back to sleep, not now. He generally took two or three naps a week, and that was enough to keep him as alive as a dead thing could feel. But he was definitely comfortable enough. No aching emptiness in the pit of his stomach, strong arms around him, blankets wrapping him thoroughly in place. He was content to just lay there, even if it meant he would have an unfinished assignment to rush tomorrow. He was perfectly fine with it.

He felt Sokka turn his head, taking a deep breath through his nose before gently raising his head. He hummed, looking up at Zuko. “Your heart stopped,” he mumbled.

“Mhm,” he huffed, not opening his eyes, nor did he lift his head.

“It’s weird,” he murmured. “Why breathe if your heart doesn’t beat?”

“Habit,” Zuko admitted, finally looking down to him. “Did it so people didn’t mention something weird. Now I just…” he shrugged. Sokka pushed himself up, resting his elbow on the bed, though still kept his arm around Zuko. They met eyes for a moment, before Zuko broke and looked away. “Let me see your bandage,” he asked quickly.

Sokka groaned, sitting up to turn around. There was blood soaked through the fabric of it, trapped beneath the latex. He frowned, flopping over the bed to grab a new one. He ripped the used bandage quickly, his movements stuttering when he saw one of the punctures was still dripping blood. He gently brought his mouth to the wound, dragging his tongue against it quickly before sealing it over with a fresh plaster. Sokka gasped, looking back to him with a gentle sigh.

“Am I still bleeding?” He asked.

“A little bit,” Zuko replied. “You’re okay.”

“I know I’m okay,” he hummed. He twisted to look back at him, giving him a wide grin. “Is it bruised?”

“Not as badly as the last one,” he shrugged, reaching up to touch the early scar tissue forming over the bite from the previous week. “I’m sorry about how violent this one was.”

“Don’t sweat it. I understand,” he hummed, turning around to face him. There was a smear of blood on his upper lip, fresh and shiny. He wiped it away with his thumb, tilting his head. “Such a messy eater.”

“Shut up,” Zuko grumbled, pulling away with a huff.

“Come on; is that any way to treat your designated blood bag?” Sokka teased.

“You’re not my blood bag!” Zuko replied quickly, raising his hands. “You’re my friend. The food is just a benefit.”

“So we’re friends with benefits?” His grin widened when Zuko flushed red.

“I—no!” He looked down, playing at the hem of his sweater. “Friends with benefits don’t…” he made a few motions with his hands. “Shut up.”

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he chuckled, lying back down.

“Please, I’m begging you to stop talking…”

“Shut me up,” Sokka challenged.

“You’re really hard to read, you know that?” Zuko rubbed his face, looking away. “You’re always making flirty comments with Suki, and like—any pretty girl you see, and then you’re, what, cuddling up to my side and daring me to kiss you?”

Sokka’s eyes softened, a smile ghosting over his lips. “You can like both, you know,” he mused, tilting his head to the side. “And I don’t dare Suki to kiss me.” Zuko stared at him for a moment, pulling his knees up to his chest.

“I’ve got a really hard time with emotions,” he murmured. “Just… give me a bit, please.”

“Of course,” Sokka nodded. After a moment, he reached out to squeeze his hand. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Mhm,” he nodded faintly, setting his chin on his knees. The two sat in relative silence for a while—Sokka carefully waiting until Zuko felt comfortable enough to break it. “Emotions weren’t a great thing in my household. Imagine those stereotypical _’man up’ _dads, and crank that to eleven. It wasn’t that we just weren’t allowed to be sad… anything but apathy was bad.” he looked to the window, turning to rest his cheek on the top of his knees. “The only reason I came out like I did, was because my mom was around. Well, she was around when my sister was growing up, but… if I’m honest, I think she was kinda scared of her. My dad raised her to… not feel, I guess.”__

“Your dad sounds like a real asshole,” Sokka muttered.

“He is.”

“Toph mentioned that you don’t like your sister very much.”

Zuko let out a long sigh, shrugging his shoulders. “My sister… scares me. I know she feels things, but my dad drilled it into her to ignore it and focus on being a ruthless little monster. She doesn’t know how to process things, so she reacts the only way she knows how—lashing out, hurting people.” he rubbed the back of his neck. “My mom really did try to help her. But I don’t think she even remembers her.”

“Your mom?” Sokka asked. “Did, uh, she pass?”

Zuko nodded, smiling weakly. “My dad got tired of her. Or suspicious, or jealous, something like that. He tipped her off to the archabbey,” he explained, seeming to suddenly deflate. “They, uh, they burned her.”

“Holy shit—” Sokka couldn’t stop the profanity from tumbling from his lips. He took a moment to process that. He thought of _his_ dad, how much he missed _his_ mom. He couldn’t imagine a man just willingly putting his wife in harm’s way like that, just… letting her die.

“Pretty fucked up, right?” Zuko forced a laugh. “Not even gonna lie, Christians still scare the shit out of me.”

“They would scare me too!” he laced his fingers between Zuko’s, giving what he hoped was a comforting squeeze. “Tui and La, that’s fucked.” he shook his head, just in disbelief.

“Hope you’re not a Christian,” he added. “Sorry, if that offended you.”

“I’m not,” Sokka assured. “Even if I was, I think I would understand if you hated them.”

“I don’t hate them,” he clarified. “They just…some of them are oblivious to what their higher-ups do.” He sighed, pushing himself off the bed to stand up. “I’ve got no doubt that the people who killed her were just blindly following one person.”

“...My mom was killed, too,” Sokka explained softly. “In a raid. Not sure what for. But they just came in, killed her and left.”

“I’m...sorry for your loss,” Zuko folded his hands behind his back, looking back at Sokka.

“I don’t remember her all too well,” Sokka smiled gently. “I like to think she’s still around, in her own way.”

Zuko just smiled, nodding some. “That’s a good way to think.”

“I’d bet your mom is still around, too.”

“She is,” he hummed. “Demons never really die.”


	9. Phases

Sokka definitely should have known better than to sleep over at a friend’s on the night of a full moon. But in his defense, it was Zuko who had invited him, and god, he couldn’t say no to that. An opportunity to let him fall asleep on his lap while they watched a shitty movie? Absolutely too good to pass up.

Sokka could go most nights without turning. Full moons were hard. His head started ringing and his vision went blurry. But he was sure he could handle it. And with how the night was going, he was absolutely fine with feeling a little off.

Zuko had ordered him a pizza, along with an ungodly large soda for himself. Upon finding out Sokka hadn't ever celebrated Halloween, even two months early, Zuko had insisted that they sit down and watch classic horrors. They’d finished one—simply titled _Halloween_. Sokka didn't find it too good, much to the other’s chagrin. He just didn't see the appeal of an unrealistic psycho killer using ungodly knife physics and defiling graves.

“He isn't a scary villain!” Sokka huffed, his eyes flitting over to the window. The sun wasn't down yet, just barely peeking over the horizon to paint the sky a vivid mauve. “I mean, he just walks. He doesn't even chase, he should be easy to avoid! And the fucker’s just got a kitchen knife.”

“He can't _die _. That’s why he’s scary,” Zuko deadpanned.__

“Okay, you can't die. You're not scary.”

“That’s different. I technically—”

“It really isn't! You've killed more people than he did, haven't you?”

“You're no fun,” Zuko shook his head, groaning loudly. “Okay, so what would you find scary?”

“A killer you actually can't hide from. Like, Laurie could totally move out of Haddonfield, and she would be a-okay. It isn't like the killer has ready access to the internet, fuck, he grew up with no contact with the outside world!”

“Fine! Fine. Let’s try again,” Zuko growled, grabbing the remote. He got back to the search page, slowly typing _elm street_ into the bar. He rented a new movie, set on the subtitles, and sat back into the cushions. He set his drink in his lap, tightly wrapped in a blanket.

After finishing up his current slice of pizza, Sokka draped his arm around the other, kicking his feet up on the ottoman.

Maybe an hour into the movie, Sokka was entirely lost, aside from the basic premise. It wasn't because it was boring, but at this point, he couldn't focus. The screen was shifting between sharp images and moving blurs, and everything was suddenly too loud. In a quiet moment, ironically, following the self-hanging of a main character, Zuko noticed his sudden quiet. He reached to pause the movie, turning to look at him. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked, waving his hand in front of Sokka’s face. “You're glassy.”

“What?” He asked, blinking rapidly, trying to focus on the words coming out of Zuko’s mouth, doing his best to string them into something comprehensible.

“Are you good?” He repeated. He gently took his face in his hands, turning him to meet his eyes. “Hey, take a drink,” he encouraged, bringing the cup of sprite and its straw to his lips. Sokka groaned, nodding before taking a sip.

“I'm sorry, my head—” he sighed, reaching up to cover his eyes.

“Shh, sh. You feel okay enough to go to my room, or do you wanna just sleep on the couch?”

“I can get up,” he mumbled. Zuko gently tugged on his hands, pulling him to stand.

“You want some pain meds?” He asked, helping him to his room.

“No, no…” he shook his head, rubbing his eyes. “I'm… I'm okay, I just need…” he stumbled to sit down on the bed, sighing.

“Okay,” he hummed, stuffing some pillows under his bed. “I’ll go ahead and do my homework in the living room, okay? Call if you need something. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” he sighed, nodding and rubbing his eyes. Zuko gave him a quick smile, carefully closing the door as he left.

It didn’t take Sokka long to break after he was alone, lest he hurt himself. He was up in nearly an instant, untying the curtains while he had the dexterity to do so, and then the pain of his splitting headache was replaced by the pain of his bones snapping.

He felt immeasurably better when it was over, his senses calming down. He could hear Zuko working in the next room, and he could listen to the minute sound of his pencil scraping against rough paper. His ears twitched a bit, smoothing back as he laid down on the carpet. Now that he was comprehensive, he just thought about how fucking stupid he was. He knew, he _knew _this would happen, but the idea of cuddling up beside Zuko late into the night, it was too good. It had been going so well, too! The latter had loosened up significantly, allowing himself to rest his head against Sokka’s chest. He totally could have made it to second base if he hadn’t felt so sick.__

It wasn’t like he could control that—but he was feeling like a dumbass anyways. He allowed his eyes to close, just basking in the moonlight in an attempt to calm down. His tail wagged lazily as he relaxed. Which, he knew was dangerous. But he told himself that he could figure something out quick if he heard Zuko coming back.

But, he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He didn’t have that kind of luck. The door squealed as it opened, with Zuko holding two glasses of warm drinks.

“Hey, Sokka, Uncle went ahead and—” his eyes first landed on the empty bed, his face screwing up in confused concern. It didn’t take long for her to spot the massive animal lying in the center of his room after, though.

Sokka raised his head, all the hair on his back standing up in a mad panic. They stared at each other for a while, and his mind was running through the bad possibilities that could come of this. But, to his relief, Zuko just snorted out a laugh.

“You sly fucker,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “So you get to know my weird supernatural secrets, but I don’t get to know yours? Pretty rude, man.” He set the mug meant for Sokka down on his desk, plopping down beside him. He could see the fear in his eyes disappear when he spoke. “Kinda stupid for you to come over tonight.”

Sokka whined in some sort of protest, pawing at his leg. Zuko batted him away. “Watch the claws,” he scolded, sipping at his drink. The wolf huffed, setting his head down on his lap instead. Zuko lazily began scratching his head, closing his eyes. “You know, uncle kept telling me about how sweet wolves’ blood is. So, you can stop getting cocky about that.” Another whine. He only giggled.

“You gonna stay the night, then?” He felt him nod. “You can get on the bed, dude. I guess I’ve gotta get used to the fur at some point.”

Sokka jumped up happily, jumping back onto the bed in one smooth motion. He curled up in the duvet, burying his nose in the sheets. He could pick up other aspects of Zuko’s scent now. There was blood, sure, and jasmine, but then there were undertones of sandalwood and smoke. And the metallic smell of gold, distinctly different from the iron that seemed to drown the rest of the notes. He clumsily patted the mattress, just doing his best to get Zuko up there with him.

“Lemme finish this,” he raised a hand. He gulped down the drink, setting down the cup and joining him on the bed. “Move, you dipshit,” he ordered affectionately. He couldn’t help his puppy voice—there were whale eyes staring back up at him. Zuko straightened out his legs, lying down on his stomach. Sokka pushed himself up beside him, setting his chin down on the small of his back.

“Night, buddy.”


	10. Shade is Preferable

Zuko woke up, rather with a massive wolf, on his back, with Sokka's arm draped over him. He let out a sigh, looking over to the window. The sun would rise soon. He really should just get up and go close it. He would definitely get burnt from this angle. But for now, he would just think about everything he was feeling—sheets piled around his feet, soft breath against his neck… a hollow pain in his stomach from a sudden pang of hunger.

_Bullshit_. It had only been five days, he should be fine. Maybe he was getting dependent. He hoped not—he could _not_ be feeding every other day, draining Sokka dry. And he didn't want to figure out another way to eat. Especially because he was growing rather fond of the sweetness of his blood.

But, with Sokka’s wrist so close to his face, he could practically see the minuscule beating of his artery beneath his skin. He blinked a few times, slowly bringing his hand closer. He knew he should have woken and asked, but with how all of their conversations after feeding had been going, he had a suspicion Sokka wouldn't care.

He turned over to face him, reaching up to hold his cheeks gently. He leaned forward to where he knew an artery lay close to the skin, one he had yet to touch. However, when his lips hit Sokka’s skin, he figured they probably needed to talk, and they'd both be sleepy if he ate now. What was going to be a bite turned into a soft kiss, then another—a few more. He ended up dragging his tongue against his skin, but shuddered when he felt his pulse. His teeth, dull for now, scraped against the delicate skin of his throat, making Sokka sigh and move around.

His eyes opened after a moment or two, his hand reaching up to card through Zuko’s hair. “Mmh, good morning to you, too…” he mumbled. “Feeling affectionate?”

“And hungry,” Zuko admitted, his voice heavy from sleep.

“Go ahead,” he affirmed, tilting his head slightly to expose more of his skin.

“No,” he pressed another kiss to his jaw. “Later…”

“Sure,” he yawned. He certainly wasn't going to deny early morning kisses. He used his free hand to grab Zuko’s chin, tilting his head up so he could move those kisses up to his lips. There was slight hesitation, but Zuko did eventually continue, tilting his head slightly. They weren't at all violent, they were sleepy and sweet.

When Sokka had to pull away to breathe—cause god knew, Zuko didn’t need to—he just rested his forehead against the other’s.

“Thanks for not freaking out last night,” he mumbled, sighing and pulling him close.

“Why would I freak out?” He laughed tiredly.

“I don't know! I guess you've never met one of us, but—”

“I did,” he corrected. “Well, I don't remember her too well. Uncle’s wife. Her name was Lai. But, anyways, I have.”

“...Good to know,” he mumbled. He buried his nose into Zuko’s shoulder, taking a few deep breaths. He remembered few and far between as to what lycanthropes were like, but he knew a little bit. Like their need to smell _everything _before they could relax completely. Seemed like Sokka was no different. He let him do whatever, letting his eyes close again. Soon enough, his kisses from earlier were being returned, and he couldn't help but sigh and lean into him. They were gentle and careful, Sokka taking in mind what Zuko had said on that one night Sokka had kissed him.__

However, his hums and even breathing took a sharp turn, when Zuko hissed and scrambled up and away. Sokka was worried he had somehow hurt him, but those fears were quickly shut down when he looked up. What part of Zuko’s arm was exposed below the hem of his sleeve was raw and red, steaming slightly. He then looked to where he had been laying, noting the patch of sunlight leaking in. “Shit,” he muttered, climbing up to go over to the window. He tied the curtains closed, sighing gently. “Sorry. I opened them last night.

“It—” he shivered, rubbing his arm. “It's fine. All good. My fault.”

“No,” he sat down with him, wrapping his arm around Zuko. “Talk about a cockblocker, huh?” He teased.

Zuko chuckled, shaking his head. “Stupid.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now, you said you were hungry.”

Zuko groaned, looking up. “It’s happening awfully often, isn't it?” He muttered. “I shouldn't be getting hungry so fast. I'm gonna start hurting you.”

“Well,” he offered over his arm, exposing his antecubital artery. “I have an idea, but I don't think you’ll like it.”

“Yeah?” He asked. He held his arm gently, leaning down to run his tongue over the exposed vessel. 

“I mean, if you’d be okay with.. with uh, um…” he flinched ever so slightly when Zuko sunk his fangs into his arm. It was more like the bite on his shoulder, lots of quiet moans and laps at his skin, “with letting other people know, uhm.”

“You’re right, I don't like that idea,” he muttered against his skin, sighing quietly. He tugged Sokka closer, digging his tongue into the wound ever so slightly.

“Ah—” he gasped, but he wasn't sure if it was out of pain. “Hear me out. Uh, Suki—Suki knows about me and, uh, Katara’s a wolf too. And honestly, um, Toph would probably be chill.”

“I'd consider Suki,” he mumbled, taking a deep breath. His heartbeat had started back up, his body flush with fresh blood. “No way I'm biting your sister, I'm already in deep enough shit with your dad…” he dragged his tongue against the beading liquid. “Toph…” he pulled back, moving to grab a plaster. He licked clean his entire arm before sealing it off. “Not sure how I feel about that. She’s too much like a little sister.”

“So, let’s ask her,” Sokka sighed, chuckling softly. “You’re covered in blood.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” he rolled his eyes. “It’s… we can _ask _, but… that’s an in-person thing.”__

“I guess,” he mused. “Let me see if they're home.”

“Mm.” He yawned, putting a hand over his heart as it slowed down.

“She was super chill with the whole wolf thing. But, I mean, I've got some kind of suspicion she thinks we’re joking and taking it too far.” He shrugged. He pulled out his phone, shooting out a text.

Zuko pushed himself out of bed, moving to push the door open and get himself to the bathroom. He turned on the faucet, cupping it in his hands and rinsing off his face. He rinsed his mouth out, noting that if Sokka wanted to kiss him, he might not be keen on tasting his blood on his tongue.

“She’s home!” Sokka called.

Zuko sighed, staring at the empty mirror for a moment. It was odd, that aspect of his life still spooked him, even though he had never actually seen his own reflection. And when Sokka joined him, draping his arms over him, he seemed just as shaken.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbled. “Wow, there’s… really nothing there.”

“Nope,” Zuko shrugged. “Kinda freaky, isn't it?”

“Really freaky,” he chuckled. Come on, go get some shoes on.”

“You know,” he began, walking back into his room to pull on some boots. “I can just keep hungry. It wouldn't be so bad.” He reached into his closet, grabbing a leather jacket to cover his arms. Then off of his dresser, a bottle of sunscreen, which he coated his hands and face in. Then, that stupid ass umbrella.

Sokka guesses he never noticed how much he really had to do to keep out of the sun.

“You know I'm not going to let you do that,” Sokka clicked his tongue. “Now, come on.” Sokka found his own shoes by the door, toeing them on.

“Coming, coming,” he assured, jogging over. He opened the door for Sokka to walk out before him, and the two made their way out to the doors.

There was an area of shade before the shop, which Zuko used to pause and open the umbrella.

The walk over to the dorms was uneventful, besides Sokka having to figure out how to hold Zuko’s hand without getting poked in the eye. Luckily, he didn't have to do that when they got inside.

Toph was the one to answer the door, tapping her feet a bit. “Sup, fuckers,” she greeted, moving out of the way to let them in.

“Hey Toph,” Zuko sighed, smiling ever so slightly. Sokka walked in, though Zuko stayed where he was before Toph sighed, offering the obligatory ‘come in’.

Suki was draped over the sofa, clicking through channels on the television. “So, what do you idiots want so early in the morning?” She asked cheerfully, looking up at them.

“Zuko wanted to ask you something,” Sokka answered, which earned an incredulous look from the subject.

“This was _your_ idea, _you’re_ asking her,” Zuko scoffed, folding his arms over his chest.

“Ask me what?” Suki cocked a brow, finally turning her body towards them.

“Uh, so like, you’re a pretty regular blood donor, right?” Sokka asked.

“Uh… yes?”

“Just like. On curiosity, what’s your blood type?”

“She’s A positive,” Zuko muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Wait, how did you know that?” Suki asked, tilting her head.

“Maybe the fucker really is a vampire,” Toph joked, flopping onto her bed. Zuko tensed up, balling his hands into fists.

“Well like, about that,” he began, looking down to his shoes. “Maybe?”

Suki looked between the two, her lips parting for a moment. “What?”

“So like, we were tapped into the blood bank but now we’re not so I've been having to eat like a normal vampire and uh I've been getting hungry more often than is ideal and I'm kinda worried about killing Sokka on accident—” Zuko rambled, clasping his hands together.

“Slow down,” Sokka chuckled, sitting down on the edge of the sofa.

“Well I'm _sorry,_ this isn't exactly something you ask people!” Zuko defended. “Besides, I’ll be _fine_ if I go a few days every week hungry, I won't attack anyone over a few days.”

“It’s not that I'm worried you’ll attack someone, I _don’t want you hungry, _” he corrected. “So you either feed on me more often or ask someone else to help.”__

“Listen, Sokka,” he rubbed his temples. “I'll be fine. It isn't like starvation can kill me.”

“Can I interject?” Suki interrupted, looking between the two. “You're expecting me to believe that A) you are a vampire, and that b) you require more blood? Zuko, I know we joke about you being one a lot, but—”

“Oh, for the love of—” he rubbed his face, hands pausing on his mouth. After a moment, he lifted his lip up, showing his fangs. They were still kind of bloody from that morning—seemed like the water hadn't reached them. Suki stared for a minute, folding her arms. “Is that enough?”

“Quite frankly, no.”

He groaned, ruffling his hair. “Okay, then, what shall I do to prove it to you?”

“Bite me,” she challenged. She assumed that if the fangs were fake, even if they pierced her skin, they would stick. Zuko rolled his eyes.

“Give me a second,” he muttered, going to the sink. He turned it on, leaning down to rinse out his mouth fully. He couldn't risk getting Sokka’s blood into Suki’s body. He then went to the bathroom, searching around for bandages. He walked back over, shoving the bandages into Sokka’s hand before shooing him off of the sofa. “Move it.”

“Someone’s cranky,” he teased. Zuko flipped him the bird, walking behind the sofa.

“You're absolutely sure this is how you want me to prove it to you?”

“Yep,” she nodded, still positive she’d catch his bluff.

“Suit yourself,” he huffed, tilting her head slightly and leaning over. He felt around for her pulse before shifting around, wasting no time on simply sinking his teeth into her flesh.

Suki gasped, reaching up on instinct to push him away. He caught her wrist, keeping it in place. He slowly retracted his fangs from her neck, staying there to catch every pulse of blood he could get. Sokka had to notice how different he was feeding on Suki. Stiff, no noise, no more contact than was required.

After a moment, he motioned for Sokka to hand over the bandage. He quickly unwrapped it, handing it over. Zuko sealed over the bite, holding pressure on it.

“...Jesus Christ,” she finally gasped, looking up at him.

“I think I've drank yours before…” Zuko muttered, licking his lips. Sokka thought his strained voice, how low it was, was way more hot than it had the right to be.

“You can tell the difference?” Sokka asked, folding his arms.

“There’s only so many regular donors,” Zuko mumbled, tucking some hair behind his ear. “So, um, that enough to get you to believe me? Cause if not, that means I'm gonna have to burn myself, and I'm really not down with that—I mean, I already got burnt this morning. And—”

“Yeah, no, I believe you! Please don't hurt yourself,” Suki interrupted quickly.

“Ok. Yeah, ok. Anyways, uhhh… I'm probably gonna be good for a couple of days, and Sokka will be back up to capacity by then, so you probably won't have to make your mind up as to that question… and, er, don’t tell Aang or Katara.”

“I'm pretty sure Katara knows,” Sokka offered. “Well, dad probably told her, I mean.”

“Wonderful,” he sighed. “Okay, well, don't tell Aang.”

“I won't,” Suki nodded slowly, touching the wound on her neck. “Jesus. Jesus Christ,” she mumbled.

“I would really appreciate if you stopped saying that,” Zuko flinched, stepping back. “Dizzy.”

“...Sorry,” she nodded a bit. “Yeah, Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugged. “Um, anyways, thanks for the food?”

“Jeez, you really are an awkward mess,” Sokka teased, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone.

“Fuck off.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am NO expert on Japanese or Native American culture but take google's explanation of their last names:
> 
> -The Gashadokuro are spirits that take the form of giant skeletons and are fifteen times taller than an average person, said to be created from the amassed bones of people who died of starvation or in battle, without being buried. These yōkai roam after midnight, grabbing lone travelers and biting off their heads to drink their spraying blood. There is a way to know of their approach, as the victim would hear the sound of loud ringing in the ear.
> 
> -An Amarok, or Amaroq, is a gigantic wolf in Inuit mythology, said to stalk and devour any person foolish enough to hunt alone at night. Unlike wolves who hunt in packs, amaroks hunt alone. writing in the 19th century, Danish geologist and Greenlandic scholar Hinrich Johannes Rink reported that the Greenlandic Inuit reserve the word Amarok exclusively for this legendary wolf, whereas other Arctic peoples use it to refer to any wolf.
> 
> Then, as far as the magenta thing goes, magenta is a color that doesn't occur naturally anywhere, and is created by basically a glitch in the human eye when trying to comprehend a certain mixture of colors.
> 
> -


End file.
